To All, A Good Night
by lemonjelly
Summary: [GCR] and [WS]. The four younger CSIs formulate a cunning plan whilst intoxicated on vodka jelly one Christmas Eve. Yes, I know it’s June. Reviews much appreciated. chapter 8 up. COMPLETED. “Greg began to bop up and down, singing along to Under the Sea”
1. Deck The Halls

**Disclaimer: ****I disclaim everything. They are not mine.**

**Spoilers: ****None.**

**Pairing: ****GCR and WS**

**Summary: The four younger CSIs formulate a cunning plan whilst intoxicated (on vodka jelly) one Christmas Eve. GCR and WS. Yes, I know it's May but I just read sitarra's Christmastime fic "King and Queen" and it really got me into the Christmas mood and I really couldn't wait until Christmas to write this one up. **

**I must take the chance to say thanks a lot to the reviewers of my earlier standalones, though.**

**For the GCR "On The..." series, thanks to: ****sitarra, Diana Prince Wayne, Taybri, dawn2323, Leatha, Danni and September.**

**For the WS "Just To See You Smile", thanks to: ****LisaMR, firestorm13, Megara1, Gonna Marry A CSI, StuntChini and Lifeguard as well as helsinkibaby aka J9 who set the challenge on the LJ community.**

**And for the WS "Citrus", thanks to: Megara1, Geeky Annie, Kelly, MissyJane and Hayesfever.**

**It was all very much appreciated as will any reviews for this be.  
**

**Now I'll get on with it. Think Christmas, kids! Enjoy! Love LJ xXx**

- o -**  
**

**To All, A Good Night. Chapter One. Deck The Halls**

- o -**  
**

"Catherine," Greg began with a smile as he swung into the break room on his way out. "I hope I'll be seeing your pretty face round my place tonight."

"Huh?" she blinked confused, setting down her mug of coffee. Warrick and Sara, standing by the door and waiting to go, grinned at her bewildered expression.

"Christmas drinks – round my house," Greg elaborated. "I hope you'll be coming; everyone else is – even Grissom."

"Oh really?" Catherine turned to the man quietly shuffling papers at the table with a smirk on her face. "Is that true, Gil?"

He shrugged. "Just dropping by."

"Okay Greg – only for a bit: I've got eleven-year old who needs a little convincing that Santa still exists." Catherine relented.

"You won't regret it!" Greg told her, pulling on his coat. "It'll be the time of your life – we're making vodka jelly." And with that, he left with Warrick and Sara.

"Should I be scared?" Catherine wondered out loud to Grissom and Nick.

"Without a doubt," Nick replied.

* * *

------------------- 

Sara rummaged through the cupboards of the unfamiliar kitchen.

"If you were Greg," she asked Warrick with her head in a drawer that seemed to be full of cereal boxes. "Where would you keep your kettle?"

Warrick pondered that for a while as Sara continued searching.

"I don't think I'd have one," he concluded after much deliberation. Sara, her face beside a frying pan that didn't look clean enough for her liking, sighed.

"Greg! Where's your kettle?" she yelled and paused before she heard his shout come back from the bathroom of his apartment.

"Don't have one."

"Great." she muttered and pulled her head out of the cupboard, banging it on the upper drawer as she did so. She swore loudly, a dark look creasing her face.

"You okay?" Warrick asked, concerned. She nodded whilst frowning and rubbing her head.

"Why did we offer to help again?" she grumbled. Warrick grinned.

"I think that'd be because we can't trust Greg to prepare anything fit for human consumption." he answered. "Even if it is just vodka jelly."

"Right – of course," she rolled her eyes and pulled out the largest saucepan she could find to boil some water with.

Warrick took the large bottle of vodka out of the grocery bag, setting them on the counter as Sara stirred the jelly into the water.

"The whole bottle?" he checked, holding it above the pan.

"Oh definitely," she said with a smile and, taking a sip from the bottle herself, she poured the whole lot in. He laughed and reached around her to grab the other wooden spoon on the counter.

"Can you taste the vodka in it?" he peered uncertainly into the green liquid in the pot. He felt Sara shrug her shoulders beside him and she lifted a spoon to his lips.

"Don't know – try it," she offered. Warrick examined the emerald sludge on the spoon with suspicion before tasting it apprehensively.

"Hey, it's not so bad. Kind of – lime." he smiled.

"You've got some right here..." Sara said vaguely and instinctively reached up a hand to wipe away the unset vodka jelly on his chin.

The next moment, they were paused like that. Both faces turned to each other and staring uncertainly into each others eyes in the most cliché way they could've imagined, nevertheless making the breath catch in their throats just for a moment.

"Are you drunk?" he whispered. She felt his breath on her lips.

"No." she replied.

"Good. Neither am I." And he leant closer.

"How's it coming along, kids?" Greg breezed into the kitchen, rubbing his wet hair with a towel and causing them to jump apart from each other, a guilty look spreading on each of their faces without either of them knowing why. Greg, however, didn't seem to notice as he looked into the saucepan and poked it doubtfully with the spoon.

"It's good, it's going good," Sara assured him, hurriedly, smoothing out her shirt for want of something to do.

Greg grinned. "Okay, well we'd better shift this into the fridge before our guests turn up." And with that, he was gone again, leaving a quiet kitchen behind him.

"Sara, I –" Warrick began awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the floor. To his surprise, she only laughed.

"Forget it, Warrick," she said brightly. "It's Christmas!" She kissed him flippantly on the lips and smiled.

"Give me a hand with this, will you?" she chirped, struggling to pour the swirling contents of the saucepan into the small jelly moulds.

"Sure...yes, sure," he nodded, astounded for a second before taking hold of the handle for her. "Are you sure you're not drunk?"

An indignant jab in the ribs from the wooden spoon told him that she wasn't.

- o -

**T.B.C. It gets better, I promise. I hope.**


	2. It Came Upon A Midnight Clear

**Disclaimer: I disclaim everything. They are not mine.**

**Spoilers: None.**

**Pairing: GCR and WS**

**Summary: The four younger CSIs formulate a cunning plan whilst intoxicated (on vodka jelly) one Christmas Eve.**

**Well thank you all for the reviews, I really didn't expect so many – or any at all – and I did expect some flames, but I was very pleasantly surprised. Thank you to: Megara1, Lifeguard, A.E. Venturi (what happened to your friend's uncle?), sitarra, tria246815, MarTW, Emoney and Ladyvader (and YES, GCR shippers must stand together!) Anyway, on with it. Reviews, again, would be greatly appreciated but you're all lovely, apparently and it's all well and good. Enjoy! Love LJ xXx**

**Oh and before I forget. This chapter ends on the "S-Word" (gasp!) so watch out for young kids...  
**

- o -

**To All, A Good Night. Chapter Two. It Came Upon A Midnight Clear**

- o -**  
**

Nick arrived shortly, not being one to miss out on a party, and took it upon himself to test the vodka jellies.

"I hope you've washed your hands," Sara commented lightly as Nick poked the half-set green jelly with a finger, his head in the fridge.

"Lighten up, Sar," he told her, handing both her and Warrick a shot glass of jelly. He smiled at her and added: "You look stunning." She grinned, taking the jelly and the compliment to be a peace offering for all their banter over the past year.

"Thanks. And you're looking a little less like you just rolled out of bed, yourself." she quipped, glancing briefly down at the black skirt and fitted deep red shirt she'd just changed into.

"Huh – thanks," Nick replied as the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it! I'll get it!" The three of them smiled as they saw Greg speed to the door and open it with a flourish.

"He gets so excited at Christmas..." Sara teased with exaggerated affection.

"Has he had anything to drink?" Warrick asked as Greg bounded up and down, impatiently waiting for Grissom to take Catherine's coat off.

"Nope – he's driving us home," Nick informed him.

"Oh dear." remarked Sara.

"Did you bring presents? Do you want some jelly? Did you bring presents?" Greg demanded, still springing about his living room.

"Yes – yes, take them," Grissom handed over a bag of wrapped gifts, alarmed. Greg took them with a whoop and disappeared.

"Sorry about him," Nick assured them, walking into the living room followed by Sara and Warrick. "Glad you could make it." He hugged Catherine and shook Grissom's hand.

"Vodka jelly?" Greg offered, reappearing in the living room with a tray.

"Anything to make this night go faster," Catherine joshed, picking one of the jellies that didn't have Nick's fingerprint in it. She peered at it hesitantly and, before lifting it to her lips, asked: "Who made these?"

"Us." Warrick answered, holding up Sara's hand and taking one himself.

"Oh that's alright then."

Catherine raised the jelly in its shot glass as Nick, Grissom and Sara picked one up from the tray. "Merry Christmas." She announced and, while the rest of the team repeated it themselves before sampling the surprisingly good vodka jelly, it didn't go unnoticed by the four younger team members the way in which the other two looked at each other, and only each other, while doing so.

* * *

------------------------ 

"Oh crap!" Catherine jumped to her feet. "What time is it?"

Grissom rolled back his sleeve and checked his watch. "Half past ten – why?"

"Argh – I promised Lindsey I wouldn't be back late," Catherine muttered, grabbing her coat.

Lying on the sofa, already drunk after seven vodka jelly shots, Nick made the sound of a whip cracking to which Warrick, sitting on the floor and equally inebriated, sniggered.

"I'll drive you," Grissom offered, getting up off the couch. "You're probably over the limit anyway." Catherine stuck her tongue out at him and threw him his jacket.

"Thanks."

"No, don't go!" Greg protested. "It's only half ten!"

"And it's been very nice," Catherine assured him kindly. "But I've really got to go."

"I'll come back later," Grissom added, opening the front door for Catherine.

"Bye, everyone! Happy Christmas!" Catherine called as the pair of them left and was regaled by the loud, slurred shouts of the others in the room.

"He's not coming back," Warrick observed when Grissom shut the door behind them.

"Nope." Greg agreed, collapsing into the chair Catherine had just vacated. "He only came for Cath."

"Yes but he's only gonna go home after dropping her off and go to bed," Sara speculated knowledgably from where she sat, slumped against the sofa beside a scattered row of empty shot glasses before adding: "Alone." in case she hadn't made herself clear enough; she couldn't really remember what she'd just said.

"Grissom's not much of a party animal," Nick commented wisely.

"He should get it together and marry her or something." Warrick added.

"Yes, they should get married and have lots of babies and call all of them Nick." Nick told the ceiling. "No wait – just the boys. No wait – all of them. No wait..."

Sara hit him with a cushion which began a chaotic cushion fight between the two. Warrick looked on laughing but Greg was staring at the wall opposite with a look of concentration on his face.

"Ow – hey, that's not fair."

"Give it up, Stokes – you're no match for me!"

"I could take you on any day, Sidle. You're gonna eat your words."

"Oh, I very much doubt that. You fight like a girl."

"Hey, 'Rick – give me a hand here."

"Wow – Greg, your rug is the same colour as the jelly!" Warrick stated excitedly, examining the floor. Nick and Sara stopped their battle and looked at him for a moment.

"No it's not, War." Sara told him. Warrick looked closer at the floor and then at the empty glass in his hand.

"Oops. Sorry Greg."

Greg didn't hear him, however, and leapt up suddenly.

"I've got The Best idea!" he announced animatedly, filling the room with a silence of anticipation, broken only by the soft thud of another glass falling over and Warrick's low mutter of:

"Shit."

- o -


	3. Sleigh Ride

**Disclaimer: I disclaim everything. They are not mine.**

**Spoilers: None.**

**Pairing: GCR and WS**

**Summary: The four younger CSIs formulate a cunning plan whilst intoxicated (on vodka jelly) one Christmas Eve.**

**Thanks again for the reviews, they really made my day. That thanks goes to: tria246815, Kelly, janedoe144, Jenn Sidle, Megara1, Celsie and monica (they're just hilarious, aren't they?) They were great, thank you very much. Please continue to review and I shall continue to update – everyone's happy...Yes. Enjoy! Love LJ xXx**

**Oh and I keep forgetting to mention – yes I'm English, so this jelly I'm on about is Jello in America (is that right?) or something like that. Well it's not jam, that's what I mean.**

- o -

**To All, A Good Night. Chapter Three. Sleigh Ride**

- o -

Greg took a deep breath with the intention of building tension. Though it was lost on Warrick who was scrubbing at the carpet in vain, both Sara and Nick moved closer to him, watching him keenly.

"We should get them together!" Greg announced, eagerly.

"Yes! Yes, we should!" Nick also jumped up, but too quickly because he fell back down again.

"Is that it?" Sara asked after a fleeting moment of enthusiasm.

"You like the colour green, don't you, Greg?" Warrick asked, hopefully. Greg chose to ignore them all.

"Because Grissom isn't going to sort things out anytime soon and it just sucks," Greg continued philosophically. "So we should get them together."

"How, Greg?" Sara looked doubtful. Greg drew himself up importantly.

"Warrick, you still have Cath's door key from when you picked Lindsey up, right?" he asked to which Warrick nodded confusedly. "So we're gonna sneak into their houses and leave them notes pretending to be from each other!"

"Ooh, I like it!" Warrick commented gleefully. "Breaking and entering: Santa-style!"

"But what about Grissom?" Nick realised before he, Greg and Warrick turned to Sara.

"What?" she folded her arms across her chest defensively.

"Oh come on, don't pretend you don't have his door key," Greg grinned slyly. Sara pulled a face and reluctantly reached into her purse, holding out a key from a bunch of several.

"It was a long time ago," she mumbled crossly and the four of them hurried eagerly out of the door, not forgetting to grab some of the leftover vodka jellies for the road.

* * *

------------------------------ 

"I'm driving! I'm driving!" Greg yelled, running towards his car as Nick tried to climb into the driver's seat. "I'm the only sober one here!" he claimed before promptly tripping on the curb.

"And we're very proud of you," Nick muttered dryly, manoeuvring himself into the passenger seat with difficulty.

"Right, Warrick," Sara opened the car door, taking on an air of authority and professionalism in the face of their mission. "You're in the back seat with me."

"And I didn't even have to buy you a drink," Warrick mused with a grin before getting into the car.

"So what's the plan, Greggo?" Sara enquired, leaning over the back of Nick's chair as Greg started up the car.

"Well – we leave them notes and...uh..." Greg trailed off and squinted into the road ahead.

"What do we say in the notes?" Sara pressed.

"We don't have any paper," Warrick observed. Nick groaned.

"This is Vegas, baby! It shouldn't be _this _hard to get two people married," he complained. "It's a wonder they've managed to _not _get married for this long."

"Ooh! Let's get married!" Sara shouted suddenly, smacking the back of Nick's chair in her excitement.

"Yeah! Who?" Greg brightened up, glancing at Sara's eager face in the mirror.

"All of us! Right now!" Sara decided.

"No, no, no, no!" Nick told her sternly. "There's no _time_! We're on a mission, Sara. Honestly." Sara sat back in her seat, looking disappointed.

"Yes. A Christmas mission," Warrick agreed. "Sorry Sar; I'll marry you next week."

"Oh – okay then," she perked up. "Sorry Nicky."

"I forgive you. Now where are we going to get some paper?" Nick took control of the situation and turned to Greg. "Are you sure this is gonna work?"

"Sure it is," Greg asserted positively. "It worked in Miracle On 34th Street, didn't it?"

"Huh?" Warrick's voice came from behind him but Greg only laughed to himself and shook his head at the memories.

"What a great movie. I like the part where they're all putting up their 'I Believe' signs..." Greg pondered, not realising that the car had fallen silent and that all eyes were now on him.

"Dude," Nick spoke finally, staring incredulously at his friend. "That's not cool."

"What?" Greg protested.

"Pull over!" Sara yelled, staring out of the window.

"Why? You're not going to hurl, are you?" Greg asked cautiously and got a slap to the back of his head for it.

"I'm not drunk," she snapped. "There's a convenience store down there that's still open. We can get cards and pens and stuff."

Greg pulled the car over and turned around with a gravely serious expression on his face.

"Nick, you're coming with me. Warrick and Sara – guard the car," he instructed, his voice strangely deeper than before. He unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car as Nick fell out the other side.

"Yes, sir!" Warrick saluted Greg and Sara giggled quietly to herself.

"What do we do?" she whispered loudly in the empty car.

"Guard the car," Warrick answered simply, looking around it. "Although I don't know why. What a hunk of junk."

"Hey, it even has weeds growing from the ceiling," she said, poking at the plant-life dangling from the ceiling, wrinkling her nose as she did so. Warrick looked at it and then at Sara.

"That's not a weed, Sar – that's mistletoe."

- o -


	4. With Bells On

**Disclaimer: I disclaim everything. They are not mine.**

**Spoilers: None.**

**Pairing: GCR and WS**

**Summary: The four younger CSIs formulate a cunning plan whilst intoxicated (on vodka jelly) one Christmas Eve.**

**Thanks again for the wealth of support that's out there. The reviews were brilliant, as ever, so thanks to: terrible-envy, Megara1 (sorry to leave you hanging like that!), Jenn Sidle, tria246815 (and also I didn't mean to be patronising about the jelly – just Thorough!), Gonna Marry A CSI (do I not get a monkey now?), Gerardfan and Celsie (Christ yes, I could go for being in the backseat with Warrick...) The reviews were really great, please keep 'em coming. There's some shameless begging for you.**

**And, as ever: Enjoy! Love LJ xXx**

- o -

**To All, A Good Night. Chapter Four. With Bells On**

- o -**  
**

"Is it?" Sara squinted at it in the gloom of the car and laughed. "Trust Greg to be tacky enough to hang mistletoe in the back seat of his car." Warrick looked at it, at her again and shrugged.

"Can't blame a guy for trying," he said and kissed her. Sara laughed.

"I don't think this was what he had in mind," she replied, kissing him back.

* * *

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"Hello?" Greg called into the apparently empty store.

"Helloooo?" Nick echoed before knocking into a festively-dressed mannequin. "I'm terribly sorry." He apologized sincerely and wandered about the store behind Greg.

"Hey!" A guy came out from the back. "Sorry, we were just shifting the Christmas dummies out to the trash, I didn't think anyone would drop by tonight – how can I help you?"

"Do you have any cards?" Greg enquired, leaning on the counter.

"And pens." Nick hissed to him.

"And pens," Greg added.

"And this," Nick put a six-pack of beer onto the counter and held up his hands defensively in response to Greg's look. "Just for the road."

The shop clerk nodded and bagged the items for which Greg conned the drunken Nick into paying. As the clerk handed the grocery bag to Greg, Nick suddenly grabbed his arm.

"What did you say you were throwing out again?" Nick asked the clerk and, with Greg and Nick exchanging glances, grins spread on both their faces.

* * *

-------------------------------- 

"Ho! Ho! Ho!" Nick sang as he got back into the car and jingled when he shook his head since the Santa hat on his head had a bell on the end. He glanced down at his jacket trimmed with white faux-fur and the curly white beard, disappointed to see it didn't really go with his jeans. Greg climbed into the driver's seat similarly dressed and looked back for a response from Warrick and Sara only to find the reason why they'd been so quiet.

"Oh man, will you cut that out?" Greg groaned. Warrick and Sara sprang apart guiltily. "It's meant to be Catherine and Grissom."

"Well you put up the mistletoe," Sara argued.

"Yeah – and you can't ignore The Mistletoe. It's the law." Warrick reasoned gravely. Greg rolled his eyes and tugged the decoration off the ceiling.

"We're sorry Greg," Sara looked at her feet. "I like your hat."

"Well good news!" Nick whooped throwing a bundle of things into the back seat. "There's some for all! If we're gonna do this, we might as well do it properly."

"Ooh..." Warrick pulled on his red jacket and white beard before turning to Sara, perching the hat on his head. "How do I look?"

"Very nice, Mr Brown," Sara commented, putting on her own festive outfit. "You look very good in a beard."

"Oh so do you," he returned the compliment and she, plucking at the elastic of her white Santa beard, giggled.

"Why, thank you." she grinned and leant over to Greg and Nick. "Did you get the cards?" Nick obediently handed them over with a pen.

"Will you two write them, seeing as you seem to be getting on quite well back there," he remarked lightly.

"Okay, well what do I say?" Warrick took a card and handed the other to Sara. "I'll write the one for Cath, shall I?"

"I don't know," Nick shrugged. "What would Grissom say if he wanted to marry someone?"

"Oh, got it." Warrick began to scribble something on the card, reading aloud as he went. "'Catherine, will you marry me? Gil.'"

"He's not dead inside, 'Rick," Nick advised, reproachfully.

"Oh sorry," Warrick adjusted the card. "'Catherine, will you marry me? Gil xxx'"

"Yeah that sounds about right." Greg nodded, taking the card back off Warrick.

"I'll go with that too," Sara suggested, writing the reverse of that onto her card.

"No, Catherine's more friendly – she'd say something nice to him. Not just that," Nick noted wisely, stroking his beard.

"Gotcha." Sara muttered vaguely and added something to the card before handing it back to Nick who glanced at it.

"Wait a second, 'Your ass is spectacular'?" he read out, doubtfully.

"That's nice," said Sara before noting the disturbed stares of Nick and Warrick. "What's wrong with it?"

"I wouldn't call it spectacular, but it's certainly not without its charm," Greg stated.

"See?" Sara told the other two.

"Sara, it's a sad day when Greg Sanders is the only one on your side," Warrick sighed, shaking his head but before she could argue back, Greg started up the engine.

"Okay, kids – let's get this show on the road. Next stop – the Willows residence," he announced flamboyantly as the car rattled down the streets, its passengers spontaneously breaking into choruses of Jingle Bells whenever the feeling struck.

- o -


	5. Up On The Housetop

**Disclaimer: I disclaim everything. They are not mine.**

**Spoilers: None.**

**Pairing: GCR and WS**

**Summary: The four younger CSIs formulate a cunning plan whilst intoxicated (on vodka jelly) one Christmas Eve.**

**Hey sorry about that, I was gonna update sooner but wasn't working for me. Thanks for all the reviews though – they were really great: Megara1, tria246815 (I figured cos they're drunk and it's Christmas and GCR is just great!), Celsie, Jenn Sidle, Gonna Marry A CSI (I don't have any pineapple...), firestorm13, KHarkins, cherishedcrush and janisha. It seems popular opinion is that Grissom's ass is, indeed, spectacular. Anyway, yes – feedback would be brilliant again, but now I'm really gonna just get on with it. Enjoy! Love LJ xXx**

- o -

**To All, A Good Night. Chapter Five. Up On The Housetop**

- o -**  
**

Twas the night before Christmas and, stealing up the path towards the front door of Catherine Willows' house were four Santa-suited CSIs. Had anybody down her block looked out of the window at the time, they may have seen the strange group creeping theatrically over the paving stones or perhaps even CSI Greg Sanders tripping, once again, most superbly on Catherine's porch steps.

"Ow, crap." Greg cursed under his breath, stumbling along and stamping accidentally on Sara's foot.

"Pull it together, Greg," she hissed, giving him a shove. "This is not acceptable Santa behaviour."

"Well technically, Sara, Santa wouldn't be going through the front door either," Greg grumbled. Nick gazed up at the roof contemplatively.

"Reckon I could get up the drainpipe?" he wondered. "And down the chimney?"

"No. But I would very much like to see you try." Sara replied before stepping aside for Warrick.

"Coming through," he knelt ceremoniously by the door, key in hand, and fumbled for the lock.

"Ouch – shit," Nick cursed losing his footing on the drainpipe and falling back onto the concrete as Warrick let the door swing open.

"Shh!" Warrick warned the team, exaggeratedly holding a finger to his lips as they crept inside.

"Where shall we leave the note?" Sara whispered in the darkness.

"I can't see anything," Nick complained, walking into a table.

"Shh – be quiet!" cautioned Warrick again and for a while, the four of them slunk about in the dark silence, trying to find their way in the pitch blackness.

"Warrick," spoke Greg finally, breaking the darkness in a hesitant voice. "Why is your hand on my ass?"

"Oh god!" Warrick jumped back in the gloom and shaking imaginary things from his hand in disgust. "Crap, I thought you were Sara."

"Hey!" she punched his shoulder, annoyed.

"What did I do?" Nick protested as he felt the punch.

"Oh sorry, Nick – thought you were Warrick." she apologized.

"This is too confusing." Greg felt around on the wall. "There must be a light switch somewhere."

"No! Don't turn it on!" Warrick yelled. "You'll wake them up!"

"And you don't think that your yelling now isn't gonna, Einstein?" Greg retorted in a fierce whisper.

"Both of you – cut it out!" Sara told them sternly but wasn't heard as Nick jumped suddenly.

"Seriously, Warrick – what the hell are you doing, man?"

"Crap – well where the hell _is _Sara?" he asked.

"I'm right here," she snapped, shoving the person in front of her who, again, turned out to be Nick. Nick stumbled and knocked into Greg as the pair of them fell to the floor, bringing a nearby lamp down with them with a crash.

The light flicked on.

"I told you not to turn on the light!" Warrick shouted, blinking in the sudden brightness. Greg and Nick leapt quickly to their feet.

"I didn't!" Greg protested. The familiar song of someone clearing their throat pointedly broke the confusion.

"Oh crap." Sara muttered and they turned to see Gil Grissom standing at the foot of the stairs in a T-shirt and boxers with a baseball bat in hand, waiting for an explanation.

"Just what, exactly, is going on here?" he enquired looking to each of them in turn and taking in their appearances. He didn't even need to recognise which ones were which behind the Santa hats and white fluffy beards; he could pick out Nick, struggling to look calm, Sara, biting nervously on the end of her beard, Warrick, guiltily rubbing the back of his neck though still slyly trying to slip his arm around Sara's waist and Greg, who was standing closest to him, stammering a reply and looking at his feet.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourselves?" Grissom leant closer to the embarrassed Greg.

"We're on a Christmas Mission." Greg told his sneakers.

"And that means...?" Grissom prompted. Behind Greg, the three other CSIs whispered and nudged each other until Nick, having been repeatedly elbowed by Sara, spoke up nervously.

"We wanted you and Catherine to get together. We figured we'd...uh...leave you notes...or something," Nick's voice grew fainter under Grissom's sceptically raised eyebrow. He pointed an accusing finger: "It was Greg's idea!"

Grissom turned back on Greg who paled again.

"I – we – we thought that...well it is Christmas and all and...we thought we'd...y'know, give you a nudge." Greg attempted to explain. Suddenly, it didn't seem like such a good idea.

"A nudge?" Grissom repeated.

"We wrote notes." Sara offered but quietened down after seeing the less-than-pleased look on Grissom's face and resumed chewing on the beard. She turned to Warrick's ear. "I think we're in trouble." she whispered.

"No, no, it's cool," Nick assured her quietly. "Just be cool." He cleared his throat and stepped forwards boldly.

"I like your bat, Griss – is it maple or aluminium...?" What began as a confident voice trailed off as he heard his own words. As he took a step back again to huddle beside Warrick and Sara again, he felt Sara's elbow in his ribs again but didn't dare make another sound.

"Well, everybody – I have to say that I, for one, am –" Grissom began his lecture but was suddenly cut off by Greg who had been gazing around the room in suspicion.

"Wait a second!" Greg blurted, a look of excitement on his face. "This is Catherine's house!" The other three looked around as realisation dawned on their faces. Of course it was, they were at Catherine's house – there was Lindsey's school photo up above the TV and there were Catherine's boots by the door, her coat hanging on a hook.

"What do _you _have to say for yourself, Mr Grissom?" Greg chanced the cheekiness at his boss and took great delight in seeing the roles reverse.

"Well, I – uh..." Grissom stuttered and found himself staring at his bare feet as Greg folded his arms, a gleeful grin spreading on his face.

- o -


	6. Silent Night

**Disclaimer: I disclaim everything. They are not mine.**

**Spoilers: None.**

**Pairing: GCR and WS**

**Summary: The four younger CSIs formulate a cunning plan whilst intoxicated (on vodka jelly) one Christmas Eve.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews – you're all just so great. Thank you very much to Gonna Marry A CSI (thanks for the tree too – I like pineapple, will it survive a British winter though?), sitarra, Celsie, Daisyangel (sorry to hear about the annoying person), Dizzy-Dreamer (the featured couples are GREAT! Are you a GSR?), Charmed-angel4, Jenny70529, firestorm13, Megara1, Jenn Sidle and Junius (x2)**

**Also thanks to everyone who reviewed the WS North-West, it is a stand-alone though, sorry – I can't handle another WIP on the go since I'm writing another one right now. Thanks to: Megara1, Kelly, Daisyangel, nick55 (superb author of The Coveted), Geeky Annie, MissyJane, wtchspll, Gonna Marry A CSI and Charmed-angel4.**

**On with the chapter though. I've officially finished writing this fic. It's eight chapters long so we're almost done here. Enjoy! Love LJ xXx**

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**To All, A Good Night. Chapter Six. Silent Night**

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"What?" Greg leant closer, cupping his hand behind his ear exaggeratedly. As Greg took delight in watching his boss squirm and his three inebriated colleagues giggled amongst themselves, a voice came from upstairs.

"Gil, what's going – " Catherine stopped, surprised for only a moment to see the four costumed CSIs in her living room. She stood barefoot on the wood laminate flooring having dressed hastily in one of Grissom's shirts that stopped an inch or two above her knees, folded her arms and suppressed a smile. "Ho Ho Ho, and what are you all doing here?"

Greg froze and stepped back from taunting Grissom as Nick spoke up.

"I'm jolly Saint Nick!" he announced proudly, having just thought that one up. Catherine did not look amused and raised an eyebrow.

"I see. Now would that be the patron saint of looking like a fool or breaking into people's houses?" she retorted coolly. Nick's alcohol-dulled mind was no match for Catherine's sharp comments so, unable to think of anything better, he mumbled something indistinctly, squeaked, and hid behind Warrick.

"They're on a Christmas Mission, Catherine," Grissom told her wryly. Catherine looked at him.

"Oh really?" she turned back to the group who were now dreading what was to come. "And you drove over here, drunk and looking like that?"

"Oh no!" Greg assured her, with sudden eagerness. "I didn't drink. I'm the Designated Driver!"

"Lord help us all," was Catherine's quiet response.

"Yeah, Cath – Greg's like this all the time," Warrick added and Sara giggled into his arm softly.

"Of course, I should've known," Catherine muttered. "So, this Christmas Mission...?"

"We thought we'd prompt Grissom into asking you out, or something," Sara supplied.

"But, since you clearly don't need that...we'll just be going," Warrick continued, steering himself and Sara subtly towards the door with Nick and Greg creeping behind.

"Hold it right there," Grissom put out a hand and stopped the escaping Warrick. "What kind of host and, indeed, what kind of law-abiding citizen would I be if I were to let you back out on the streets again like this?"

"But I'm not even dru-" Greg began to protest.

"Oh _especially_ you, Greg," Grissom cut him off and Greg hung his bearded head, the bell on his hat tinkling forlornly.

"Especially since it was partly our fault for not telling you that Gil and I moved in together two months ago," Catherine admitted before adding sharply: "But that's no excuse to break into my house."

"I had a key!" Warrick objected before falling silent as both Catherine and Grissom shot him a look.

"Now there's a spare room at the back with a double bed and –" Catherine began.

"I call it!" Warrick yelled immediately.

"Hey, that's not fair!" Nick whined.

"Yeah – you can't call it!" Sara punched his shoulder.

"Sara, it's a _double_ bed." Warrick murmured pointedly.

"Oh..." she smiled in realisation and, turning to Nick, chirped: "Sorry Nicky. He called it."

"Well there are two couches out here," Grissom gestured to the couches. Nick looked at them, then at Greg and began to grumble.

"'Night Nick!" Sara grinned as she and Warrick slipped off towards the guest room.

"Merry Christmas to all and to all, a good night!" Warrick called theatrically and pulled off his beard in a flourish as he disappeared down the hall. Grissom and Catherine looked at each other, shrugged and headed up the staircase back to their own bedroom.

"Goodnight, kids," Catherine smiled, hand-in-hand with Grissom and closing the bedroom door behind them.

"Who'd have thought I'd be spending the night with you," Greg pondered in the empty room as he tested the couches for springiness. Nick scowled.

"You'd better not snore," he muttered darkly.

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"How do I look?" Grissom's voice came from behind her in the darkness of their bedroom. Catherine turned and laughed to see Grissom adjusting Warrick's Santa beard on his face.

"Oh very...mature," she smiled, playfully tugging on it.

"Should I keep this on? Grow my own, perhaps?" he suggested lightly. Her head tipped to one side, considering for a moment before leaning up to him and kissing him.

"No," she replied decidedly when she finally broke away. "Too tickly."

"Oh really?" Gil asked, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

"Oh no...no you wouldn't!" Catherine eyed him suspiciously, recognising the glint in his eyes. His lips twitched in a small smirk and Catherine, feeling suddenly about 10 years old, dived across the room with a squeal.

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Catherine's laughter drifted down the staircase and Nick, feet hanging over the end of the couch, sighed and pulled his blanket over his head.

"It's a rabbit!" Greg announced from the corner of the room.

"Huh?" Nick lifted his head up and gazed blearily over to where Greg's voice came from. He was sitting in the corner by the wall, making shadow puppets with a side-turned lamp.

"See?" He made the poorly formed bunny bound eerily across the wall. "You're not proud of me?"

"I'm sorry; I was speechless for a moment. I never realised you actually had hand-eye coordination." Nick muttered sarcastically. Greg raised his eyebrows.

"Ooh – for someone who's had nine vodka jelly shots and two beers, you're very grouchy," Greg told him, crawling across the floor to kneel above him.

From the back of the house, Warrick yelled something indistinct before being hurriedly shushed by Sara. Nick rolled his eyes.

"Doesn't it bother you that we're the only ones in this house not getting any tonight?" Nick asked him. Greg shrugged.

"Not so much – but if you like, we could always..." Greg began but stopped when Nick looked at him in bewilderment.

"Dude – you're straight!" Nick spluttered.

"Yeah but it's always nice to keep your options open," Greg answered matter-of-factly. Nick laughed, shook his head and buried it back into the couch cushions.

It took until 2am for everyone in the Grissom-Willows house to be asleep: Lindsey first, having slept through the invasion; then Nick, who Greg soon found was the one who snored; then Catherine and Gil as they always did, in each others arms; then Greg after hours of boredom and debating whether or not to dip Nick's hands in warm water (which his conscience decided against doing); and finally Warrick and Sara – for reasons that, in a K+ fic, cannot be detailed. And just before Warrick dropped off to sleep, with the sleeping Sara's soft breathing against his chest, he hoped, for her innocence's sake, that the eleven-year old Lindsey upstairs was a very heavy-sleeper.

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	7. On Christmas Day In The Morning

**Disclaimer: I disclaim everything. They are not mine.**

**Spoilers: None.**

**Pairing: GCR and WS**

**Summary: The four younger CSIs formulate a cunning plan whilst intoxicated (on vodka jelly) one Christmas Eve.**

**Argh, I could've waited and tried to squeeze more reviews outta ya, but hey, I owe ya better than that! Thanks to my five reviewers, Dizzy-Dreamer, Celsie, Jenn Sidle, firestorm13 (it's not finished yet firestorm! Don't leave me now!) and Megara1 . Brilliant, as ever. Enjoy! Love LJ xXx**

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**To All, A Good Night. Chapter Seven. On Christmas Day In The Morning**

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Warrick lay there for a while, slowly recollecting the previous night as the sun slinks over the window sill. When he moved his arm from around her, Sara turned half-asleep and buried her face in his bare chest until she reluctantly opened her eyes.

"Huh." Came her voice, in a tone of surprise and amusement. He drew back from her.

"You don't regret it do you?" he asked hesitantly. She shook her head furiously.

"No, no I – " then she stopped. "I think I'm gonna be sick." And she leapt out of the bed, wrapping herself in the duvet and dashing off to Catherine's downstairs bathroom.

"Sara!" A suddenly very naked Warrick hurriedly pulled on some boxers and ran after her.

"Good sleep?" Greg enquired mischievously from where he stands above the sink, doing his hair in the mirror as Sara stumbled in and stuck her head in the toilet bowl.

"Shut up Greg," she muttered darkly in between retches.

"Charming," he grumbled, pinching spikes into his hair as Warrick rushed in to kneel beside her. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

"I'm hoping this isn't a response to my question," Warrick says with a slight smile, rubbing her back as she threw up into the toilet.

"No, no – I'm sorry. No I don't regret it; I mean everything I said and did last night," she assured him before vomiting some more.

"Good," Warrick replied with a grin. "Because so do I."

"Ooh," came Greg's voice from the sink. He carried on styling his hair without looking away but continued: "So you'll be getting married next week then?"

"Huh?"

"What?"

Greg turned around mischievously.

"Don't tell me you don't remember – you meant _everything_ you said last night. And last night, you agreed to get married next week." Greg informed them gleefully, resisting the urge for an evil laugh.

"No we didn –" Sara began fiercely and then her face changed as she remembered. "Oh crap." Warrick looked at her carefully and shrugged.

"Maybe not next week but...we'll see how it goes?" he offered. "One day?" She smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, okay – I'd like that." And then she turned and retched some more.

"What a beautiful moment," Greg commented dryly. Sara shot an angry look at him.

"Warrick, can you get me some clothes?" she asked, wrapping the duvet more tightly around her.

"I'm staying for this." Greg declared immediately, but only mildly protested when Warrick dragged him out of the room by one of his finely-styled spikes of hair.

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"Look what I've found." Catherine murmured tantalizingly into Gil's ear as she clambered back onto the bed in her dressing gown. He propped himself up on his elbows and grinned as she waved two envelopes at him, both messily addressed to each of them. She handed him the one with his name on it and they opened them together. Her eyes glinted impishly as she quickly read the short note.

"Wow – they got me," Catherine said with a smirk, flipping the card elegantly in her fingers so he could read it.

"Spectacular?" Grissom read and raised an interested eyebrow. "How very sweet of you. Well they pretty much took the words out of my mouth, too." She laughed and crawled to lie by his side and read over his shoulder.

"That's it?" she protested, punching his shoulder lightly. "That's all you'd say? What about _my_ ass?"

"Honey, you know how I feel about your ass," he maintained. She raised her eyebrows, clearly not impressed.

"But that's it? Nothing else? Not even an 'I love you'?" she complained. He gave a dramatic sigh and got out of bed.

"That's what you want?" he asked as he reached into his bedside drawer. "Okay – I love you, Catherine. Will you marry me?" And he pulled out an engagement ring in a velvet box and held it out to her. She just looked stunned.

"Well – " she said, struggling to find words. "Well that's more like it." He laughed.

"That's a yes then?"

"Oh that's a yes." Catherine agreed and kissed him.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered with a smile as she drew back. "What do you say we go wake the kids and tell them?"

"All five of them?"

Grissom laughed again and nodded. "All five of them."

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--------------------------------- 

Lindsey was already awake though, and standing up above the still-suited and still-sleeping Nick in the living room.

"Boy, Santa's really let himself go," she muttered sarcastically in a tone that would've made her mother proud and snapped the elastic of Nick's beard.

"Wha – huh? Wha?" Nick sat up suddenly, looking all around him in confusion.

"Good morning, Uncle Nicky." Lindsey chirped innocently. "Merry Christmas!"

"Ohhh man." Nick held his head in his hands before putting on a smile for Lindsey. "Merry Christmas, kiddo. I am so hung-over."

"Uncle Nicky!" Sara snapped from behind him and he turned to see pale but far more presentable-looking Sara standing over the couch with Warrick's arm comfortably around her waist and flanked by Greg, Grissom and Catherine.

"Oops – I'm sorry, try to pretend you didn't hear that." he mumbled vaguely to Lindsey. Lindsey shrugged.

"Anyway, children – we've got something to tell you." Grissom spoke up.

"You're getting married!" Greg jumped in with a guess excitedly.

"You're having a baby!" Lindsey speculated with equal excitement.

"Oh! Call it Nick!" Nick yelled above them all.

"Hold it there," Catherine held up a hand. "No – just the first one. Just...just the first one."

"My plan! It worked!" Greg whooped triumphantly.

"No, actually – I went with Uncle Gil to get the ring," Lindsey informed him in a matter-of-fact way.

"Whoa – beaten to it by an eleven-year old, Greg," Warrick gave his friend a small shove.

"Touché, Linds." Sara grinned at the little girl.

"Well anyway, Nicky – I hope you can make yourself more decent soon because you're all staying for Christmas dinner," Catherine announced ceremoniously and headed into the kitchen.

"You didn't want to tell them yet?" Grissom asked quietly, following her into the kitchen and shutting the door. Catherine smiled softly.

"About the baby? No I think that's already enough excitement for one day." Catherine slipped her arms around his waist as he wrapped his around her and stood for a while in the middle of the kitchen.

"Maybe we can tell them on New Years." He suggested and smiled down on her slightly. "So what do you think of the name...Nick?"

Catherine laughed. "Not a chance."

Standing tentatively on the other side of the closed kitchen door, Lindsey Willows aimed a small punch into Uncle Nicky's bicep and grinned.

"Told ya!" she chirped.

"What's wrong with 'Nick'?" he objected quietly, before wandering off to take a shower and change into something a little less...Santa.

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	8. O Holy Night

**Disclaimer: I disclaim everything. They are not mine.**

**Spoilers: None.**

**Pairing: GCR and WS**

**Summary: The four younger CSIs formulate a cunning plan whilst intoxicated (on vodka jelly) one Christmas Eve.**

**A much shorter chapter this time just to tie up loose ends. This IS the final chapter so really thank you very very much for all the reviews. With fics that try and be funny you can either get good feedback or flames and it was really great to get some lovely comments out of you all! As ever, I'll take the opportunity to shamelessly plug future fics, though they're turning out to be rather more dark. "Perpetuity" is a GCR with some WS and "Wake The Hope" is a WS with some GCR. So really, there's something for EVERYONE, apart from quite a lot of people...**

**But thank you so much, especially the reviewers of the last chapter: Charmed-angel4, sitarra, Jenn Sidle, Celsie, firestorm13, Megara1, JoonSanders, D.M.A.S and meg (thanks for reviewing On The Verge and On The Peak too, I take it you're a GCR shipper?) Anyway, enough rambling from me. Thanks for being brilliant. Enjoy! Love LJ xXx**

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**

**To All, A Good Night. Chapter Eight. O Holy Night**

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Christmas drew to a close at Catherine and Gil's place with the seven of them lounging in the living room, having eaten what felt like just about everything. Nick lay flat on his back on the floor, groaning after polishing off the turkey in response to the challenge by Greg, Warrick and Lindsey. It had been declared the main event of the day by the eleven-year old as the three of them cheered him on with Grissom and Catherine staring with disturbed fascination and vegetarian Sara looking away, feeling slightly sick again.

Beside Nick, Greg sat patiently on the carpet, distracted by the re-runs of old Disney films on TV as Lindsey stacked the flimsy paper hats from the crackers on his spiky head.

"You gotta stop fidgeting, Greg," Lindsey instructed the only CSI who wasn't quite old enough for the title of Uncle yet as Greg began to bop up and down, singing along to Under the Sea. The colourful paper hats began to float down and Lindsey gave him a small shove.

"Ouch! Catherine – help me!" he appealed, being playfully battered by the little girl. Catherine shrugged lazily from where she sat on the couch beside Gil who had his arm comfortably around her.

"Outta my hands, Greggo." she told him. Nick on the floor suddenly thought of something and struggled to sit up.

"Hey – Cath, Griss – what's wrong with calling your kid 'Nick'?" he grumbled. Catherine's mouth fell open and she stared at him for a moment.

"How did you - ?"

Nick grinned cheekily. "What? So it's a crime now to stand behind a door and casually overhear something?" Catherine rolled her eyes and looked to Gil.

"Well fine – okay everybody, so maybe we have something else to tell you." he began.

"The baby?" Sara spoke up languidly as she half-lay against Warrick's chest, the pair of them taking up the other sofa. "It's alright, Grissom – we already know. Congratulations."

"Nick told us," Warrick supplied and was answered by a yelp from Nick as Catherine brought her heel sharply down into his stomach.

"So that's where you get it from." Greg said to Lindsey in wonderment. "I should've known."

"Ow – hey, Cath – watch out unless you want turkey all over your carpet..." Nick warned her, curling up.

"Nice." Sara commented distastefully. Warrick smiled at the top of her head which rested just below his chin.

"Hey, we'd better get going, Sar." he murmured and turned to Catherine and Grissom. "Thanks for the Christmas dinner – and we're sorry about last night."

"Nah – that's alright, 'Rick. As strange and frankly creepy as it was, it was a nice thought," Catherine smiled. "Sort of."

Sara laughed and shook her head as she and Warrick made to let themselves out, calling goodbyes.

"Oh and by the way," Grissom called. "If you two aren't married and without good reason this time next year, you can expect a Christmas visit."

Looking back into the living room, they saw Grissom reach out and pull on one of the Santa beard's they'd left behind. He winked jovially at them as Sara and Warrick left, hand in hand. Then he looked back around the room; at Greg who had shuffled across the floor to sit with his face an inch from the TV screen playing The Little Mermaid, unable to stop himself from yelling out: "No – it's a trap!" while Ursula traded with Ariel onscreen; at Lindsey who took great delight in poking Nick in the stomach without warning and watch him roll over with an exaggerated groan; out of the window at Warrick who roguishly stole Sara's hat from the top of her head as he kissed her on the path; and finally at Catherine who felt his gaze and turned to fix him with her own curious stare.

"What?" she prompted. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm just – I'm just happy," he admitted, as though he hadn't expected it. Catherine only smiled and sank back into his arms with a small sigh. Grissom held her tighter and, as Greg shouted more warnings to the oblivious mermaid, inwardly laughed at the bizarreness of the life he so loved all coming together on one very strange Christmas Day.

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Thanks again.


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